Chapter 60
Elena
As we climbed, I noticed Uncle Vincent emerge at the top of the steps, and to my surprise, he was smiling—actually smiling, with warmth in his eyes. "Look," I said, nodding toward him. "Uncle Vincent is smiling. That's good, right?"
Uncle Étienne followed my gaze, and I saw some of the tension leave his shoulders. "Yes, that's very good. Vincent is typically quite reserved, especially at formal events. Seeing him relaxed suggests the evening will be pleasant."
Then, with just a hint of amusement in his voice, he added, "Though I have to admit, there was a time when I genuinely believed his mouth was physically incapable of forming a smile. I thought perhaps there was some medical condition preventing it."
I couldn't help it—I giggled, the sound escaping before I could stop it. The image of Uncle Étienne seriously contemplating his colleague's facial muscles was too absurd. "That's terrible!"
"Merely observant," he replied, his tone dry but with warmth underneath.
We reached the top of the steps, and suddenly Aunt Katerina was there, sweeping out of the doorway with her arms outstretched. "Elena! Ma chérie!" She pulled me into an embrace that smelled of jasmine and expensive perfume. "Look at you! That dress—it's absolutely exquisite. You look elegant and enchanting."
I felt myself blush with pleasure at her praise. "Thank you, Aunt Katerina. Your home is beautiful."
"Merci, ma belle." She stepped back, holding me at arm's length to look at me properly, and without thinking, I did a small turn, letting the velvet dress swirl around my legs. It was an automatic response, something I'd done since childhood when she'd given me gifts—this need to show her, to demonstrate my appreciation, to prove I was worthy of her generosity.
"Perfect," she pronounced, beaming. Then, to my delight, she executed a small curtsy in return, mirroring my gesture with such grace that I couldn't help but laugh.
Uncle Vincent stepped forward, his smile warm. "Étienne, good to see you. And Elena, welcome. Though I suspect you've already been spotted by young Maxime—he's been watching the drive for the past hour."
The mention of Maxime made something flutter in my chest, but it was complicated by the awareness of Uncle Étienne standing just behind me. I could feel his presence like a physical thing, even though he wasn't touching me.
"He seems quite taken with you," Uncle Vincent continued, his tone gently teasing. "Can't take his eyes off you, in fact."
I felt my cheeks heat, caught between pleasure at the attention and discomfort at having it pointed out in front of my uncle.
Aunt Katerina must have sensed something because she smoothly changed the subject. "Vincent, why don't you show Étienne the new additions to the wine cellar? I know he was instrumental in the original design, and I'd love his opinion on the modifications we've made."
It was clearly a dismissal, a way to separate us. Uncle Étienne must have known it too, but he simply nodded. "Of course. I'd be happy to take a look."
As he turned to follow Uncle Vincent, he glanced back at me, his expression unreadable. "I'll find you later," he said quietly.
Then they were gone, disappearing into the house, and I was left alone with Aunt Katerina, who was watching me with shrewd, knowing eyes.
"Come, ma chérie," she said, linking her arm through mine. "Let's take a walk before the other guests arrive. I want to hear all about you and Maxime." She paused, then added more softly, "And perhaps about why you looked so uncomfortable when Vincent mentioned him just now."
My stomach dropped. She'd noticed. Of course she'd noticed—Aunt Katerina noticed everything.
As we started walking along the stone path that led around the side of the house toward the gardens, I tried to organize my thoughts, to figure out what I could say that was true but not too revealing.
"So," Aunt Katerina said conversationally, "you and Maxime are dating?"
"Yes," I said, grateful for the straightforward question. "We're... we're together. It's still new, but yes."
"And how does Étienne feel about this?"
The question caught me off guard. "I... I don't know. He hasn't said much about it." Which was true, if incomplete. Uncle Étienne had been carefully neutral whenever Maxime came up, his face revealing nothing.
"Hasn't he?" Aunt Katerina's tone was mild, but there was something underneath it—a knowing quality that made me nervous. "That's interesting. Because I suspect Étienne has quite a few feelings about you dating his nephew, whether he's expressed them or not."
I didn't know how to respond to that, so I said nothing.
Aunt Katerina squeezed my arm gently. "Elena, darling, let me give you some advice. Étienne is a good man—one of the best I know. But he's also someone who lives by rules, by duty, by what he thinks is right rather than what he wants. If you're going to date Maxime, you need to understand that Étienne may struggle with it, even if he never says so directly."
"Why would he struggle with it?" The question came out before I could stop it. "Maxime is his nephew. If he wants both of us to be happy..."
"Because," Aunt Katerina said gently, "sometimes what we want for the people we care about and what we want for ourselves are two very different things. And sometimes those two wants are in direct conflict."
I didn't understand what she meant, not fully. But something in her tone made my heart beat faster, made me aware of a subtext I couldn't quite grasp.
Before I could ask what she meant, we rounded a corner and I heard voices—the other guests beginning to arrive, the party starting in earnest. Aunt Katerina patted my arm. "Go on, ma belle. Go find your young man. We'll talk more later."
She gave me a gentle push back toward the house, and I went, my mind spinning with her words, trying to parse what she'd been trying to tell me.
As I walked back toward the main terrace, I passed through the house—through rooms filled with cream-colored furniture and expensive art, past a living room where a massive crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, its facets catching the late afternoon light and scattering it across the walls like scattered stars.